Rue's Last Thoughts
by JuneTwentieth
Summary: She has always known death is inevitable, that all are destined to leave the world eventually. It is knowledge that will taint the innocence in her heart forever, the innocence that left as soon as a tiny slip of paper was read aloud on a stage in the reaping square.


I am rewriting Rue's Last Thoughts because looking back on it, I'm embarrassed by it. Yes, I'm almost never satisfied with anything short of perfection, yes, my standards are high, but _this needs a rewrite. __Badly__. _The summary was also rewritten for being unacceptable (and a sentence fragment).Oh, and of course, I decided to do it on Halloween. Happy Halloween to all!

I don't own the Hunger Games.

* * *

_Rue's Last Thoughts_

_by JuneTwentieth_

* * *

She screams for her ally, knowing she will be too late.

"Katniss!_ Katniss!"_

* * *

Death speaks in the darkness, has come to take the girl who flew through the trees. _It is her time_, it says.

She has always known death is inevitable, that all are destined to leave the world eventually. It is knowledge that will taint the innocence in her heart forever, the innocence that left as soon as a tiny slip of paper was read aloud on a stage in the reaping square. She has borne so much - starvation, disease, even the glassy eyes and savage pain of her family. She has felt as if she has brushed death with her fingertips before, but before, she had accepted it - known it was near, been ready for it to carry her away.

She had known that her blood would soon splatter the arena as soon as she was reaped, but still, she had clung onto that tiny spark of hope she might survive.

But this is unexpected. This doesn't give her any time to prepare.

Reality crashes down on her even before pain registers. A horrible finality blooms into existence with the blood that spills across the grass. She curves in around the spear that protrudes from her stomach, an ugly weapon among peaceful birds and bees.

_This doesn't belong in the arena, _she thinks. _This blue sky and colourful meadow. This day is too beautiful for anyone to die._

When Katniss Everdeen crouches next to her and she sees her grief, she remembers that she is not the only one in the world. Thousands, _millions, _maybe, died every day. People who die without any opportunity to have a friend nearby. They die, forgotten, the rest of the nation unaware they ever existed. And for that, she is grateful, and the throbbing pain in her stomach dulls.

"Win," she tells the girl. She does not ask for rebellion to blossom or anything else. But she has done enough for Rue, and she knows that it is only fair for Katniss to win. She has to get back to her sister, to her friends, to her district. Otherwise, it's all for nothing.

It is without resentment she speaks. After all, it isn't Katniss' fault that she is going to die.

She only wants to be put at peace. She doesn't want reassurance, nor apologies or vengeance. She just wants her life to be finished with what she has always needed. Music, which weaves tales of happiness and sorrow, energy and weariness. Music can tell something pictures and words can't. They'll never require education the way reading does, or artistic ability the way drawing does.

"Sing," she implores her friend. It is her final wish.

Rue watches as the Girl on Fire swallows, opens her mouth, and sings.

Suddenly, it doesn't matter if her singing voice is terrible, or the song she chooses is horrid. The twelve-year-old is feeling strangely tranquil, and as she listens, she knows that a golden harp played by angels in Heaven would never sound better. Rays of sunlight filter through the leafy trees, giving her a natural spotlight, ad far, far away, she hears the notes of a mockingjay.

"_Deep in the meadow, under the willow,_

_A bed of grass, a soft green pillow,_

_Lay down your head and close your sleepy eyes_

_And when again they open, the sun will rise..._

_Here it's safe, here it's warm,_

_Here the daisies guard you from every harm_

_Here your dreams are sweet and tomorrow brings them true_

_Here is the place where I love you._

_Deep in the meadow, hidden far away,_

_A cloak of leaves, a moonbeam ray,_

_Forget your woes and let your troubles lay_

_And when again it's morning, they'll wash away._

_Here it's safe, here it's warm,_

_Here the daisies guard you from every harm_

_Here your dreams are sweet and tomorrow brings them true_

_Here is the place where I love you."_

Her siblings. Her parents. Her friends.

She hopes they will be all right. She hopes Katniss will win. She hopes so many things, but she smiles as she closes her eyes.

Darkness and death and numbness. . .

Through all of it, there is peace. The girl that flies through the trees cannot ask for any more.

* * *

The Girl on Fire watches her ally, curled up in a bed of wildflowers. She raises three fingers in a salute, telling of something a thousand words could never do justice. Pain. Desperation. Friendship.

She leaves with goodbyes remaining forever on her lips.


End file.
